


Cheesecake Cabin

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:51:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b><a href="queenofthemambo.tumblr.com">queenofthemambo</a> prompted:</b> Rain, woodsmoke, cheesecake, blow jobs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheesecake Cabin

“I’m sorry it’s raining,” Blaine says, coming up behind Kurt to wrap his arms around his waist.

 

Kurt puts his own hands over Blaine’s on his stomach, leaning back into his comforting warmth. “What are you talking about? This is perfect,” he assures him.

 

“Really?” Blaine presses his face against the back of Kurt’s neck, leaving a few tiny, tickling kisses all over the skin there.

 

Kurt turns in his arms, draws him closer, a full body hug that connects them from their feet all the way up to where Blaine’s head rests on Kurt’s shoulder, Kurt’s face buried in Blaine’s blissfully gel-free hair. “Really,” he says, wrapping himself around his boyfriend as completely as he can manage. And he means it. He loves this.

 

The cabin is tiny and the roof is leaking in the bedroom, the hot water is barely enough for one person to shower, and the only source of heat is the woodburning fireplace in the living room. But they have three days here and no cell service here and no wifi and they’ve packed a small suitcase full of books, and they’ve brought food.

 

It’s just what he needs, Kurt thinks, a long weekend with no distractions, no responsibilities, no interruptions. Just a room that smells of woodsmoke, a comfortable rug in front of the fireplace, the sound of raindrops on the roof and windows, and a suitcase full of books. And Blaine. Always Blaine.

 

He loosens the hug far enough to bring their faces together, the kiss long and slow and deep, unhurried like the rest of this weekend. Three days. Three days full of slow kisses and long, warm hugs and cuddling in front of the fire.

 

“I’ll go make us some tea,” Blaine whispers against his lips before reclaiming them in another slow kiss, and Kurt nods, forehead rubbing against Blaine’s, once they part finally.

 

“Okay. Sounds good.”

 

Blaine puts on the kettle, humming something under his breath and wiggling his hips as he dances over to the cupboard with the mugs and tea bags. Kurt watches the fire burn for a moment, noticing their slowly diminishing stack of firewood they brought in earlier, and grabs the large basket by the door.

 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he calls out to Blaine, who waves at him over his shoulder, not stopping his humming for a second.

 

Kurt steps into the rubber boots that stand waiting by the door and throws on his raincoat, slips out the door quickly and pulls it closed behind himself, careful not to let too much of the warmth out of the tiny cabin.

 

The firewood is piled up against the side of the house, protected by a tarp that’s weighed down with large logs to keep it from blowing away. The ground is muddy and he slips a few times but doesn’t fall - it wouldn’t matter much if he did in this outfit. The only things he’s packed for their weekend are old pairs of jeans and hoodies, one comfortable pair of sweatpants that he’s going to change into the minute he’s back inside.

 

They have no reason for dressing up out here where no one will see - Blaine is the only one who sees him here and the soft, worn clothes are so much better for cuddling. He loves the feeling of Blaine snuggling up to him under a warm blanket on the couch when they’re reading or just sitting together. Nothing in the world could ever feel safer than Blaine warm and solid and close against him, the shapes of their bodies instinctively knowing all the ways they fit together so perfectly.

 

He removes the logs, lifts the tarp, starts filling the basket as quickly as he can - the rain is still coming down heavily, a cold wind blowing, and he’s already starting to shiver. But it’s quick work and within a few minutes, he’s on his way back inside.

 

The warm air of the cabin greets him like an embrace and he sets his basket down next to the door, kicks off the rubber boots and hangs up the raincoat before he goes to change into more comfortable clothing.

 

Blaine is still singing softly, hips swaying, two steaming mugs on the counter next to him as he digs through the plastic box he carried in from the car earlier with a happy-mysterious smile on his face, refusing to tell Kurt what was inside.

 

Kurt smiles and, dressed in more loose-fitting clothes now, lets himself drop onto the old but amazingly very comfortable couch that’s facing the fire.

 

Blaine turns around to him, an excited grin on his face, hesitating with both hands inside the box. “Close your eyes.”

 

Kurt looks back at him. “Why?”

 

“Just do it.”

 

“Fine,” Kurt agrees, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and covering them with his hands for good measure. “But if you’re starting a food fight, I’m never going to speak to you again.”

 

Blaine laughs and Kurt hears the clinking of cutlery from the direction of the open kitchen. “You’ll love this, I promise,” Blaine says.

 

Kurt hears his socked feet padding closer across the wooden floor, hears Blaine set something down onto the coffee table, and keeps his eyes closed as Blaine repeats the same journey a second time.

 

“Open your eyes?” Blaine asks finally, and Kurt does.

 

On the coffee table, there are two mugs of steaming hot tea and - an entire, delicious-looking cheesecake with a bowl full of what looks like raspberry sauce next to it.

 

“Blaine,” he says, voice a little choked, and looks up at him.

 

Blaine looks so delighted at his little surprise, bouncing on his feet, eyes sparkling, and Kurt _smiles_ , the tiny thoughtful gesture making his chest _ache_ with love for this wonderful man.

 

“Ta-daa,” Blaine sings, proudly, waving toward the cake. “Surprise!”

 

“Yeah.” Kurt shakes his head at him. “How did you even - I mean, when did you have the time -”

 

“I made it last night after you fell asleep,” Blaine explains.

 

“You - wait, you made this?” Kurt stares up at him. “You made me cheesecake.” He laughs. “I guess it must be love, then.”

 

“You know it is,” Blaine says softly, his eyes so fucking gentle on Kurt’s he feels like he can’t breathe for a second.

 

“Hold on,” he says, reaching for Blaine’s hands to pull him down onto the couch next to him. “You stayed up half the night - after the week you’ve just had - to bake a cake, and then insisted on driving half the way here? After not sleeping more than a few hours? Blaine I could have -”

 

“It didn’t take all that long,” Blaine assures him. “If I’d felt too tired to drive, I’d have made up some excuse for making you drive a few more hours.”

 

“You would have made up -” Kurt cuts off his own sentence, overwhelmed by the thought and planning and intention behind all of this - something so simple, just a stupid cake, but Blaine had forgone sleep and snuck this into the car and hidden it from Kurt to surprise him and it’s so sweet, so thoughtful, Kurt thanks him the only way he knows how. By kissing him until they’re both out of breath.

 

“Thank you,” he breathes against Blaine’s mouth, and Blaine draws back, shrugging a little, but clearly very pleased with himself.

 

“It’s just cheesecake,” he says.

 

“Blaine.” Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “You know my feelings about cheesecake. There’s no _‘just’_ about it.”

 

“I’m glad you like it,” Blaine replies.

 

“I like _you_ ,” Kurt says, giving Blaine’s lips another quick peck.

 

“Good.” Blaine squeezes his waist briefly, nudging his nose off Kurt’s. “I like you too. Let’s eat.”

 

Kurt ends up eating three slices of cake and then dozes lazily with his head on Blaine’s belly - it’s so soft, it’s the best pillow in the world, he’s actually thought about making Blaine promise to never go the gym again for fear of the belly disappearing - while Blaine reads, one hand threaded through Kurt’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. It feels like heaven.

 

The light in the room is fading slowly, the single table lamp they’d switched on and the glow from the fire casting a soft light across the old, worn furniture.The rain hasn’t let up, the soft patter of raindrops on the roof and the crackling of the embers the only sounds in the room next to their breathing. It’s quiet and peaceful and Kurt presses his face against the fabric of Blaine’s soft sweater and inhales the smell of woodsmoke and tea and _Blaine_. It’s wonderful..

 

He feels sleepy and content and happy, but something is stirring deep inside, Blaine’s proximity and the tangle of their limbs and the perfect little bubble of happiness they’ve created around themselves tugging at him until he wants more, wants to be closer, to connect in every way possible. He wants Blaine.

 

Slowly, almost casually, and yet with clear intent, he slides a hand down Blaine’s belly, lower and lower, until he can feel the shape of his cock through the fabric of the sweatpants. He’s still soft, but Kurt rubs him gently, feels him filling out and growing under his fingers as he applies just a little more pressure.

 

Blaine’s breath hitches and his stomach contracts where Kurt’s cheek is still resting, thighs tensing just a little.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Kurt curls his fingers around him through the material of the clothes, grins. “My taxes. What do you think I’m doing, Blaine?”

 

Blaine laughs a little breathlessly, fingers pressing into Kurt’s scalp, hips twitching as Kurt’s thumb finds the head of his cock and presses down.

 

“Do you want me to stop?” Kurt asks.

 

“No - no.” Blaine lets out a shaky breath, book thumping to the floor. “Don’t stop. God, please, don’t stop.”

 

“I won’t,” Kurt promises, turning his head to breathe damply against Blaine’s sweater, rubbing his face there. “I want you.”

 

“Yes,” Blaine says on an exhale, sinking back into the couch cushions, giving himself over completely, so very eager and willing and Kurt feels full to bursting with the emotions flooding his chest. He feels so _much_ for Blaine.

 

Blaine lifts his hips when Kurt tugs off his pants, looking up at him with dark, trusting eyes, and Kurt needs a moment to just look at him, caressing his thighs with gentle fingers, feeling high with arousal and love and that quiet sense of _this is right, this is foreve_ r that sneaks up on him sometimes when they’re like this.

 

Blaine is - it overwhelms him, sometimes, seeing Blaine like this. After everything they’ve done, after all the years, all they’ve shared, all their days and nights and kisses and arguments and all the sex they’ve had, loving, gentle, filthy, intense, lazy sex, Blaine can still look - like this. He can still look up at Kurt with eyes so innocent, trembling under his touch like it’s the first time they’re doing this, while Kurt already knows all the sounds he makes, knows the feeling of Blaine’s muscles quivering under his skin, knows just how to hold him down and make him _take_ it, how to dig his fingers into his sides the way he loves, how to hold him afterwards and whisper to him and kiss him softly and stroke his hands across his sweaty back until his breathing calms.

 

They’ve shared so much; they know each other so well. And yet this will never get old - with Blaine, it will always be exciting, it will always be more. It will always be _them_.

 

“Kurt,” Blaine pleads, voice low, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. “Please.”

 

Kurt turns his face into Blaine’s palm, places a soft kiss there, then slides off the couch onto the soft rug, pulling Blaine into a sitting position and tugging at his hips until he’s at the edge of the seat, right where he wants him. “You look so god like this,” he whispers, nudging Blaine’s knees apart as wide as possible, nuzzling his face against Blaine’s thigh close to his groin. “So sexy. And all mine.”

 

“God, yes,” Blaine sighs, and Kurt kisses his way up the soft skin of Blaine’s inner thigh, one hand reaching up to wrap around Blaine’s swollen, hard cock.

 

He strokes him lightly, without much pressure, while his mouth finds his balls, placing gentle kisses there before sucking one into his mouth, then the other.

 

Blaine’s breath is already coming faster, heavier, fingernails scraping over the fabric of the couch as he curls his hands into tight fists.

 

Kurt lifts his head, grinning up at him, giving a few firmer tugs to Blaine’s cock that’s glistening with precome at the tip already. “Good?”

 

“Hahh,” Blaine replies eloquently, bucking up into the circle of Kurt’s fist, and Kurt takes it the way it was meant - as encouragement to bring his mouth down to Blaine’s cock and lick him all the way from the base up to the tip..

 

He doesn’t tease, after that, but doesn’t go fast either - Blaine is panting and moaning softly above him, but seems in no rush to come just yet, and Kurt loves this, loves this feeling of being able to set the pace for them like this, feeling Blaine’s arousal slowly escalating until there’s no choice but to spill over into orgasm.

 

But Blaine isn’t there yet, even though his moans keep getting louder, hips twitching off the couch rhythmically as he wants more, and Kurt can feel his body trembling with need.

 

Kurt hums around him, eliciting another loud, half-broken moan, and sinks a little deeper, sucks a little harder around Blaine.

 

“Kurt,” Blaine gasps. “Kurt, oh god, oh fuck, _Kurt_ -”

 

He’s so hard himself now, throbbing in his loose sweatpants, aching to touch himself. But he doesn’t want to miss Blaine’s orgasm over being too far gone, so he digs his fingers into Blaine’s thighs instead, hard enough to bruise, and swallows around him.

 

“Nnngh,” Blaine comments, and Kurt draws all the way up until he has only the tip in his mouth, steadies Blaine’s cock with one hand around the base, and starts licking around the head, pressing his tongue to that spot on the underside that always makes Blaine’s hips buck off the couch, closes his lips around it again to dip his tongue into the slit and lick away the beads of precome that have gathered there again.

 

“I - oh god, I need to, _ahh_ , I need, I’m going to -” Blaine babbles, and Kurt understands.

 

He takes Blaine in as far as he can, starts bobbing his head in earnest, one hand finding Blaine’s balls to roll them against each other between his fingers.

 

It doesn’t even take another minute before Blaine’s body goes tight, back arching, hands grabbing fistfuls of Kurt’s hair as every exhale turns into a frantic moan.

 

“Kurt I’m - close, so close, oh _god_ , I’m -” Blaine tries to warn, and Kurt just sucks him harder in response, wanting it, wanting it so badly…

 

Blaine comes with a cry that cuts off into a whimper, hips jerking forward in aborted little thrusts as his body spins out of control, spurt after spurt of come shooting down Kurt’s throat.

 

He swallows all of it, hungrily, only drawing back a little once Blaine stops spurting but continuing to suck and lick until Blaine’s body goes limp, dropping back into the cushions, completely spent.

 

“Kurt,” he pants, weakly tugging at his hair, stomach rising and falling rapidly with heavy, labored breaths. “Kurt, Kurt, honey -”

 

Kurt lets go of Blaine’s oversensitive cock with a parting kiss to the head, rests his cheek against Blaine’s thigh.

 

“God.” His voice sounds raspy, proof of what they just did, and his heart is hammering in his chest. He’s so _hard_ …

 

Blaine pats his hair shakily and Kurt can’t wait any longer, shoves a hand into his sweatpants, wrapping it around his achingly hard cock, almost sobbing with relief at the welcome friction as he jerks himself furiously. God he _needs_ to come so badly -

 

“No,” Blaine protests, tugging weakly at Kurt’s shoulders, “No, up here, please, let me, I want -”

 

“Blaine I need to -” Kurt gasps. “I need, oh _fuck_ , I can’t -”

 

But Blaine slides to the floor next to him, sweaty and still breathing heavily, and tugs Kurt’s hand away. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me.”

 

Kurt, too far gone, slumps against Blaine with a sob, pleasure spiking so sharp he cries out when Blaine’s fist closes around him, pants miraculously shoved out of the way.

 

He could have gotten himself off easily enough, but Blaine’s hand feels so much better than his own, broad and skilled and strong and a little too dry, but that’s perfect right now - Blaine’s tight fist, so much friction, so amazing it makes him fucking _whimper_ with how good it feels.

 

He’s so close already, pressure building low at the base of his spine, his balls aching with the need to come, his whole body convulsing as he fucks Blaine’s hand with sharp, frantic thrusts.

 

And then he’s just _there_ , Blaine twisting his hand just so, and Kurt feels his mouth falling open around a soundless scream as he comes so hard his vision goes white.

 

It’s a fucking _tidal wave_ of white-hot bliss that makes his muscles seize up, body coming off the carpet as he rides the waves, fingers digging into Blaine’s shoulders hard enough his nails are breaking skin. And he just _keeps coming_ , suspended in a state of almost unbearable pleasure, Blaine’s hand on his cock, Blaine’s arm around him the only thing that keeps him from shattering apart or floating away.

 

When he blinks his eyes open, panting hard as his lungs try sucking in enough air all at once, he’s collapsed against Blaine, their legs tangled, backs resting against the couch. The fire is burning low.

 

“Wow,” he says.

 

“Definitely,” Blaine agrees.

 

There’s come smeared across Blaine’s hand and Kurt’s thighs and balls and stomach and it looks like a lot of it landed on his clothes and Blaine’s sweater as well - he pretty much came everywhere, but he can’t bring himself to even care about the mess..

 

“I think we have to get changed,” he says, even though he really doesn’t want to move.

 

“In a minute,” Blaine says, reaching for some napkins on the coffee table to clean off his hand and then carefully wiping the cooling come from Kurt’s skin. “I’d really like to cuddle right now.”

 

“Mmm, okay.” Kurt tugs a blanket from the couch, too lazy to move back up there, and Blaine helps him drape it over them.

 

“”What was in that cake?” Kurt asks, opening his arms for Blaine when he sinks against Kurt’s chest, skin still buzzing with the soft glow of aftershocks. He feels lighter than air, heavy enough to sink through the floor.

 

“Huh?” Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist, tucking his head under Kurt’s chin.

 

“I just - that was amazing,” he says. “Everything is amazing. This entire weekend is amazing so far.”

 

“And it’s only Friday,” Blaine agrees, smile evident in his voice even if Kurt can’t see his face. “We should do this more often.”

 

“Which part?” Kurt wants to know. “The cabin? The cake? The orgasms in front of the fireplace? I think I'm going to call this place Cheesecake Cabin,” he muses. “Seems fitting.”

 

“Oh, I like that name.” Blaine chuckles. “As for doing it again: I was thinking all of it,” Blaine explains. “In fact, I may already be working on a plan to feed you more cheesecake and talk you into fucking me on that rug over there later.”

 

“Oh, Blaine, honey.” Kurt cards his fingers through his curls, tugs at them lightly. “You really don’t have to talk me into anything. I’m all yours.”

 

“But I have a speech prepared and everything.” Blaine lifts his head, pouting at Kurt.

 

“Is there a serenade involved?” Kurt asks skeptically. “Remember we agreed to split them fifty-fifty from now on, and if you start then I’ll have to think of something -”

 

“Kurt.” Blaine leans up to kiss him, hard and wet and determined. “Just let me sing you a fucking song, okay?”

 

Kurt’s eyes soften, fingertips trailing a path across Blaine’s cheek before he leans for another, softer kiss. “You know I will,” he says. “Always.”


End file.
